


Dickopolis

by metrophobic



Category: Heavy Metal (Movies), South Park
Genre: Cheesing, Consensual Alien Gangbang, Heavy Metal (1981) Parody, M/M, Nympho Tweek, Sexual Humor, This is terrible, You probably shouldn't read this, dicks everywhere, this is the dumbest thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 23:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13845480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metrophobic/pseuds/metrophobic
Summary: Tweek discovers a little secret that his parents have been keeping from him, and after an unfortunate mishap involving said secret, he is transported to another realm entirely. But where do you go when you love the D, and rocking tits have no effect on you? The answer. . . is Dickopolis.





	Dickopolis

**Author's Note:**

> This is really fucking stupid, why'd I write this? (Because it was fon to due.)

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tweek muttered to himself, hefting up one musty box and stacking it upon another. “Why’d I agree to this again? _Hnnnghh_ …” 

It was the middle of summer and his parents were out of town. Frustratingly enough, so was Craig, but for entirely different reasons. _They_ were trying to have a spontaneous getaway, something about rekindling their marriage; Tweek had clapped his hands over his ears and nodded furiously after that part while his dad just kept right on talking. He had no, absolutely _no_ interest in hearing his father’s strange metaphors about their sex life. No fucking _thanks._

Craig was in Boulder for freshman orientation at his university. It sucked already being away from him, even though they agreed that some time apart might do them good. They were both voracious to the point where they were running themselves ragged with their ridiculous—but so, so fucking _amazing—_ marathons. It had gotten to the point where intimacy had become a competitive sport: who would tire first. Who was the most insatiable. Who would be the last man standing. Since it was usually Tweek, Craig would get butthurt and take it personally, and it tended to cause stupid fights between them. Then they’d make up, which meant more sex, and the cycle would start all over again.

They were exhausted. Exhausted with themselves, and each other.

But damn, did Tweek miss him. Judging by the banal texts Craig sent him bitching about the experience thus far, it was plain that Craig missed him too.

Tweek’s parents agreed that he could continue to live with them over the next year so long as he pulled his weight around the house. He didn’t bother pointing out to them that they already made him pull his weight even when he was in high school. It wouldn’t have made a difference. _We’ll close shop and let you have the week off,_ his father suggested cheerfully, _so long as you clean out that basement._

It was a good method of burning off excess energy, Tweek told himself, after coming to the realization that a ten-hour jerk-off binge and a twelve-hour nap just didn’t cut it. So there he was. In their basement, having dragged down as many fans as he could and yet the sweat on his back still left his shirt sticking to his skin. He peeled it off and used it to wipe his face with a sigh, pushing back the thin tendrils of golden hair that stuck to his forehead and temples.

He was thirsty. Maybe it was time for a break.

“ _Brrrr?”_

Tweek’s head snapped up at the noise. It came from the far corner of the basement. Or, perhaps, he was so hot that he’d started to hallucinate. Could mirages be sounds, too?

“ _Mrooowl._ ”

No. He definitely heard it that time. Tweek walked across the basement to the source of the noise. It was coming from behind a curtain. He pulled it back and the ginger cat sitting behind it gave a quick start.

So did he.

“ _Aaaagh!_ ”

The cat took a step back, spine arching, fur bristling, ears folding. Its lips pulled back in a hiss that started off as a soft puff of breath and seemed to crescendo, displaying a pink mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Tweek put his hands up and took a careful step back of his own. This wasn’t like they were hiding a body or something. Behind that curtain lay an entire little setup: a soft bed, a set of feeders that had clearly been filled before his parents left, a tower covered in carpet with little nooks, a few scattered toys. They’d even laid a rug down.

Tweek had no idea about any of this. The cat looked like it was in good health, fully grown, well-fed. It must have been at least a few years old. How long had his parents kept it down here like this? In spite of everything to the contrary, Tweek still felt pity for the poor creature, locked away like a prisoner.

The cat had stopped its territorial display and was sitting back on its haunches, casually licking its paw.

“N-nice kitty,” Tweek said softly, holding out his fingers and making a gentle clicking sound. “ _Mm_ \- Come here.” To his delight, the cat stretched forward and sniffed his hand, then tentatively licked his fingertips with a sandpaper tongue. _My sweat_ , Tweek immediately realized. “What-  _ah,_ what’re you doing down here, little guy?” He smiled and carefully scratched under its chin. “Where’d you come from?”

The cat blinked once, and without further ado, shot off past Tweek like a rocket.

“ _Agh!_ Oh fuck!” Panicked, he scrambled after it. The cat was already thumping up the stairs and nudging its way through the door that was cracked open. Tweek caught a flash of the area beneath its tail and could immediately see that it wasn’t neutered, which was rather strange. “ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed to himself, hurrying up the stairs and into the main floor of the house. “Fuck, oh fuck. Oh Jesus. Where’d he go?”

He heard some pitter-pattering of paws and whipped his head around, just in time to see the cat go bounding up the stairs. Since nobody was home except himself, Tweek didn’t bother to close the door to his bedroom. Oh god, he already liked this cat, but that didn’t mean he was ready to tolerate cat dander and hair all over his things! This wasn’t something he prepared himself for at _all._ Already feeling his nose begin to itch, Tweek hurried upstairs after the little intruder. The tomcat paused at the top of the stairs, but as soon as he caught sight of Tweek coming up behind him, he scampered into the open bedroom with another _brrrr_ sound.

“No, no, _no,_ ” Tweek whispered hoarsely, tugging at the ends of his hair in frustration. He paused and took a deep breath. The breath culminated into a sneeze, and then another one, because no one ever sneezes just once. “ _Uuuughhh._ ” He sniffled and, trying to be as inconspicuous as he could, tiptoed into his bedroom.

The tomcat was already positioning himself in front of the wall. All Tweek had to do was drop to the ground—which he did—and inch forward, carefully, enough so that he'd be able to grab the cat by the scruff of its neck— and then he reached out, he was so close—

The cat lifted its leg, and promptly anointed that wall, claiming the space as his own forever.

Tweek screamed.

Startled, the cat jumped up with a yelp of its own, and just like that, Tweek was blind. All he could breathe in was the acrid stench of ammonia, and it overpowered him; he collapsed onto his stomach and coughed, hard.

“ _Oh_ ,” he moaned. “Oh _god._ ” The floor felt cool against his cheek, his bare torso. He flexed his toes and just like that, felt nothing beneath him. A supernova burst behind his lids, white-hot then blue, and he pawed at his eyes with his fists, finally cracking them open.

All he saw were stars. Not the kind you see when you’re punched in the face—but real stars, _real_ stars, infinite against the endless churning cosmos. He suddenly understood why they were compared to diamonds. It wasn’t scary at all, floating in the vast Nothing like this, like he always thought it would be. It was comforting, and _cool_ , so cool, almost _cold_. It was like the sun had melted away the Earth entirely beneath him, and there would never be summer again, no more blazing fiery heat or sweat-soaked shirts or old musty basements to clean out. He laughed quietly to himself, in disbelief, reaching out as far as he could to grab hold of space. If he could just tear a piece of it away, if he could grip that beautiful velvet shroud in his fingers, maybe, just maybe he could bring a bit of space back to his Love, too.

Something brushed his cheek. A giant insect. It glistened iridescent in the light of the stars and its wings hummed invitingly. Entranced, Tweek climbed atop it.

Next thing he knew, he wasn’t floating anymore, he was on the ground, and it was soft beneath his cheek. Soft like grass, the earth underneath pliant and yielding.

“Hey, man.” A tall, muscular creature with green skin, large black eyes and a long tubular nose was standing in front of him. Tweek didn’t know what to do, so he just _stared._ Whatever it was, this thing—this _guy—_ he was completely naked.

“You’re…” But he didn’t know what to say. Tweek’s voice stuck in his throat, and he felt something stir in the pit of his stomach.

“Don’t think you’re royalty,” the being drawled on. He sounded like a hippie. Was that a real thing? Hippie space aliens? “Only royalty can bear the cloth.”

“Oh,” said Tweek. “Okay.” He reached down and tugged off his shorts, then his boxers. It felt _amazing._ He felt so free.

“Yeah, dude.” The alien gave him a thumbs up. He was really well hung. It was flaccid, the penis, yet long and _thick_ even in that state, and it swayed between his legs whenever he moved. It looked so strong and sturdy, yet soft, like a flower wrapped in starlight. Just the sight of that strange, bulbous penis made Tweek’s penis very hard.

What a grand penis it was.

“ _Ah!_ Where am I?!”

“Dude, this is like, the city of Dickopolis. Man, not another fuckin’ tourist…”

Tweek sat down in the grass, which felt nice against his naked butt, and stared at the skyline directly behind the other dude. It definitely looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. Futuristic buildings rose up, some as tall as skyscrapers, some looked like towers, spires glowing with strange red lights. Even the shortest of them—which Tweek assumed to be houses or eating establishments—were narrow, curiously rounded at the top. He rose to his feet and drew closer to the city walls, and that’s when Tweek saw it.

They were dicks. Every single one of them.

The buildings were shaped like dicks.

“Holy _shit,_ ” Tweek gasped. He was still hard. He’d never gotten turned on by buildings before—that was a little too weird even for him—but the phallic shapes reminded him of what he’d been missing over the past (he quickly counted in his head) _three days_ , and he felt the answering throb down below.

“Well,” said the alien, “guess I better give you the tour.” He shrugged, his eyes lidded and lazy, like he was high.

“ _Hah._ What’s the tour?” asked Tweek.

“You gotta accept the tour first, man,” said the alien. “We can’t go on the tour unless you accept.”

“O-okay,” Tweek said, a little hesitant. “ _Nnn_  I accept the tour.”

“Far out.” And the alien promptly wrapped a hand around Tweek’s dick and tugged, like it was a leash. Tweek gasped out loud.

“ _Ah,_ oh god! What are you doing?!” But he didn’t try to get away.

“That’s how we keep track of each other, man,” said the alien, still sounding bored. “Grab mine, too. Otherwise you might get lost.”

“Okay.” Tweek’s tongue darted out over his lips, and he wrapped a fist around the alien’s cock. It felt cool to the touch, pliant, but then it curved upward as if excited, growing warm in his hand. He whimpered a little.

“You’re already rock-hard, man. You’ll fit in around here.”

“ _Nnn._ What’s your name?” Tweek kept a careful grip as they walked together, dick in hand.

“Splortch.” He seemed a bit uneasy at the question. Splortch didn’t ask what Tweek’s name was, and so Tweek didn’t supply it. They walked straight into the center of town, where in spite of the futuristic aesthetic, more lush grass grew. It was devoid of any buildings, almost like a park, and it sat on a hill. Tweek hesitantly looked over his shoulder, watching as the dick-buildings they passed by simply disappeared into the distance. Soon there was nothing but grass and sky, the vast night sky, which was not full of stars but empty and burnt. If he looked up, he could see the distant spires that rose up seemingly into infinity.

He wondered if he would ever climb them.

“Hey, Skeet,” Splortch said. “Look what I found.”

Another alien stepped out in front of them, pushing a cart. On that cart was a giant bag of a strange powdery substance. This guy was more of a fleshy colour, with big flappy ears. His dick was hard and it looked as big around as a Coke can. Tweek gulped.

“Aw, shit,” said the new guy. “Another tourist?”

“Yeah,” said Splortch. “We gotta give him the tour.” He made some kind of strange whistling noise out of his trunk, and then Tweek heard footsteps all around them. More aliens. Of all shapes, colours and sizes. One of them had masses of octopus tentacles for hands, and a long veiny dick that was already dripping with violet precum (or at least, Tweek _assumed_ it was precum). No, he was wrong— two, no, threefour _five_ of them were like that. When he blinked, it seemed like they were changing colours each and every time, and melding together, like some strange kind of hivemind, but then they were separate again, and the stuff was dripping _everywhere._

He was getting wet, too, little clear beads of fluid welling up on the head of his cock. Tweek pushed his hips forward with a low whine, seeking friction in the hand that held him. Splortch chuckled warmly.

“Yeah, man, tourists _love_ the tour.”

“They totally do, dude,” chimed in the one called Skeet. “Hey Felch, who’s going first?”

“It’s totally Cucky’s turn, bro.”

“Oh, fuckin’ A,” chimed in one of the tentacle-people. He was blue. Felch was a creamy colour, which was strange to behold.

“We gonna give him some of this plutonian nyborg?” Splortch had taken the cart and was pushing it in strange patterns along the ground, leaving trails of white powder in its wake. Tweek couldn’t even remember when the guy had let go of his dick, but he suddenly felt cold. The blue guy—”Cucky”—came over to him and patted him on the back with a tentacle-hand.

“Nah,” said Cucky. “Let’s just start the tour. We’re already low on time.”

“God damn it,” said Splortch. He bent over and started inhaling the stuff on the ground through his trunk, and a big smile spread over his face. “Be there in a minute,” he called between huffs. “Ah man, this is some _good shit._ ”

Tweek was frozen in place. There was just so much going on at once, he didn’t know what to do. And then the tentacle was rubbing along his face, pushing into his mouth and prying his jaw open. He moaned.

“Oh, you taste so good, _ngggaaah…_ ”

“Gonna taste even better now, man,” said Cucky, and promptly pushed Tweek’s head down onto his dick. Tweek groaned around it, his voice muffled. It really _did_ taste good, gooey and sweet and syrupy. He lapped at the stuff like it was ambrosia, sucking the thick rod in and out of his wet mouth. The alien who was supposed to be fucking his mouth, he didn’t even need to, because Tweek did all the work for him. Someone was coming up behind him, spreading his cheeks, and poking into his hole. Tweek moaned again and felt tears gather at the corners of his eyes when the creature’s cock slid into him. He swallowed down the sugary fluid and lifted his head, licking greedily at his lips.

“My turn,” said Skeet, and grabbed Tweek by the hair.

“Oh, _god,_ ” he groaned. “I don’t know if I can— _ah—_ _nnnffff!_ ” His mouth was stretched wide, so wide, around that huge cock and he bucked his hips. A mewl curled from his throat. He wanted _more_ , needed _more._ He could feel his asshole opening the deeper he was mounted, and he flexed around it, arching his hips and desperately breathing out through his nose.

“There you go,” said Skeet. He grunted, and then exploded in Tweek’s mouth. Fizzy, bitter fluid gushed down his throat and Tweek scrambled to get away, coughing hard and spitting it up all over the place. The chubby pink alien was still spraying everywhere. Some of it got in Tweek’s hair. He shook his head fiercely, hips still bucking back against the strange dick in his ass.

“Oh,” he moaned. “ _Oh, yes. Ohhh_ , fuck… oh god…” His mouth was being filled again, and he suckled greedily at it, carefully raking the rubbery flesh with his teeth. A bright, sweet flavour burst over his tastebuds as the alien’s cum coated his tongue, and he slurped away at it, shaking so hard with how desperately he wanted to be filled, everywhere. Dimly he was aware of someone grabbing his cock and jerking it, even twisting a little, stroking him perfectly. He felt his balls tighten.

“Hey, Splortch. We gonna let this guy nut?”

“Yeah.” Splortch wiped some excess powder off his face. He was zoned out, bliss written all over his expression. “Juice his face, too.”

“You’re the boss!” The sticky-sweet cock in his mouth was gone, the syrupy fluids landing on Tweek’s face instead, smearing over his lips, chin, his cheeks. It smelled like sugary fruit and it was so, _so_ good, he was coming, too; he shuddered hard and clenched, dripping down onto one of his bent legs.

Tweek felt the thing inside him come undone with a wet _pop._ He automatically reached behind him to touch his hole with a shaking hand. Was that it? Was the tour over already? No, it wasn’t, it couldn’t have been, because he was mounted again. This time it was Splortch himself. He pushed inside Tweek’s open hole and Tweek cried out, not even caring, they all knew what he was there for anyway.

“Cocknose,” one of the aliens cheered him on. “Cocknose, cocknose, cocknose!”

“Alright, man,” said Splortch. “I’m totally gonna cocknose.” He curved his body forward, and just like that, both his trunk _and_ his dick were up Tweek’s ass. Tweek squealed. It felt so _weird,_ so fucking _weird,_ but he was full just like he wanted, and he spread his legs wide, moaning like the nasty little whore he knew he was. Just like that and he was pushed to the ground entirely, on his belly. He rubbed his cheek against the dirt.

“Ohhh _god,”_ he moaned again. “ _Jesus,_ fuck me, fucking wreck me, _aaagh…”_

They were all surrounding him then, dripping all over his body, smearing it over his skin. He was getting fucking _painted_ in their weird fruity alien jizz and he _loved_ it. Splortch made a few grunting noises behind him and then he was spurting right up Tweek’s ass, too. Tweek writhed in delight, rubbing his dick against the moist earth. He was already hard again. “Heh,” said Splortch, after pulling his nose _and_ his dick free of Tweek’s ass. “There was plutonian nyborg in my jizz, so you’re totally gonna get high now, man.”

“ _Ungh!_ Okay,” said Tweek, muffled into the ground. He was trembling. “I, I need to come again,” he whined. “Can I come again? _Ngh_ , make me come again…” He didn’t even know whether to ask or demand anymore, bucking his hips against the emptiness left behind. The aliens were all laughing and jeering, slapping their dicks all over his body. He was _soaked_ from head to toe. But then—

“His Majesty calls!”

“Aw, man,” said Skeet, and he kicked the ground. “Just when it was gettin’ good.”

“You gotta like, get up,” said one of the other aliens. Tweek didn’t catch his name. He stopped caring after a while.

“Oh,” he said, disappointment flooding him. He was about to get blue-balled by a bunch of goddamn aliens. This wasn’t going to end well. But Tweek did as he was told, sitting up first with a grunt—his butt was kind of sore—and then rising up on shaky legs. He felt like a newborn deer.

A short, effeminate man in a bright purple waistcoat came jogging up the hill. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and he was bald, face covered in makeup. His penis flopped around between his thighs. It looked like it was 2 inches long at the most. “You have been summoned to court,” he said in a high-pitched voice, while taking Tweek by the dick. Tweek gasped and grit his teeth; he was tender down there.

“I…” His voice cracked. “I have?”

“Oh, man.” Splortch nudged at him. “Don’t keep the King waiting, bro. He’ll totally get pissed off and harsh all over your mellow. It’ll suck ass.”

Tweek didn’t even understand what was going on. It was all happening so fast. He nodded, still dazed, and reached for the little man’s dick. He received a slap across the face for his trouble.

“ _Nghaah!_ What the hell!?”

“The cock of the King’s most trusted advisor,” the man sniffed, “it is not for mortal hands to touch.” Tweek dropped his hands to his sides. He said nothing else, for fear of incurring more wrath somehow, only allowed himself to be led through the town and right into the largest cock-building of them all. It was clear that this was the palace. It wasn’t built like the others. This one looked like it was straight out of a fantasy realm, long and piercing, smooth granite and polished marble. Colourful clouds danced around it, and staircases snaked and curved along the structure like veins. The palace stood so tall and proud that it was impossible to see the top, even as Tweek craned his neck.

“We will go into the West Side,” said the advisor. There were two entrance halls on the ground floor, two sparkling crystal domes. Tweek followed the advisor inside and it seemed endless, the hall, they passed the occasional alien but most of the beings inside the palace almost seemed _human_ , like himself. They were naked, holding spears, swords, shields. Some of them even wielded their own dicks, so gargantuan that they were weapons in and of themselves. Tweek was impressed.

Really, really impressed. So impressed that he was getting precum on the advisor’s hand.

“ _Euch_ ,” went the advisor, in disgust, and as soon as they were in the King’s Hall he dropped Tweek’s dick and pulled out a handkerchief. “I have brought the visitor, Your Grace,” he said while swabbing his hand clean.

Guards lined the walls, the city’s grand crest emblazoned across their huge shields, long shining swords held at the hip. Unlike the others in the palace, they were clad head to toe in armour: beautiful, gleaming armour that seemed to be forged from the rarest and strongest of metals. Tweek couldn’t even hope to catch a glimpse of their faces, for they were entirely obscured by the helms seated atop their heads, only a slit across the top allowing them to see. Their penises were mighty too, standing at attention, the only part of them left exposed.

Tweek couldn’t see the King, either, though he imagined he must have been there. At the head of the grand hall were several large, muscular men, buck-naked with their dicks flopping all over the place, each holding a giant palm leaf.

“You may approach, young one,” came the voice. It was a rather lovely and gay voice, lilting and lisping. Tweek swallowed thickly and took a few nervous steps forward. The leaves parted to reveal the King himself, a beautiful, supple young man who didn’t look much older than Tweek himself. As he took in the sight of Tweek his full lips curved into an appreciative little smirk, and he casually tossed back his long auburn hair. “I observed your little… _tour_ ,” he mused, gesturing toward a large, green ball in front of him. He was wearing nothing but a skimpy, purple robe that Tweek imagined must have been silk. A hard nipple peeked out from beneath the garment, and the King casually parted his knees, showing off the thick erection underneath. Framed by soft, perfect little curls, it was neither too big nor too small. Long and thick enough to really give Tweek’s ass a good drilling, or to slide over his tongue. The King’s royal penis was flush with need, smooth dark tip glistening, his perfectly plump, tight balls just begging to be fondled. It was just right. It was beautiful. It was _perfect._

Tweek suddenly felt _very_ self-conscious, and his head jerked, a nervous twitch. He shook it quickly and craned his neck, trying to see into the King’s magic ball—or whatever it was.

“Do not approach the Loc-Nar,” said the King. “I have _greater_ things in store for you.” He rose delicately to his feet then, and waved off the boys who were fanning him.

“Are you gonna fuck me?” Tweek blurted out, feeling sweat bead on his brow. His sore butthole tensed up at the thought. One of the guards stepped forward and brandished his sword. “ _Agh!_ What the Hell—?”

“Do not address the King in such a crude manner!” snapped the advisor. He grabbed Tweek by the balls and tugged, which made Tweek yelp and drop to his knees. “You must _always_ kneel before King Hard, peasant.”

“ _Ah!_ F-forgive me, Your… Your Highness.” Tweek bowed low to the ground, until he was leaning forward, hands pressed to the floor. His dick and asshole throbbed in tandem with each other.

“Hm.” King Hard dragged a long finger over his lips, stepping curiously around Tweek’s prone form. He briefly paused to check out his ass. “Turn the suitor over, so that I might inspect his cock.”

Before Tweek could even move or say anything else, the servant boys were grabbing at him, all of their warm strong hands on his sticky body, and then he was turned over onto his back. He gasped and stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes, then squeezed them shut. He felt a soft, ladylike hand caress his thigh and then, his genitals. “You have an impressive dick, young one,” murmured King Hard. His fingertips brushed over Tweek’s balls, and Tweek’s hips twitched. “Your testicles are filled with your desire,” he added, mischief in his tone, “and they’re ready to burst. Aren’t they?”

“ _Ngh!_ Yes, Your Grace,” Tweek answered.

“Perhaps…” and the King turned, lifted his robe up, canted his hips back ever-so-slightly. “You would like to spill them into my _ass._ ” Tweek’s breath caught in his throat. It was the most beautiful ass he ever saw in his life. It was absolutely perfect, the ass of an Adonis. Smooth, completely hairless, round, full _just_ enough to be enticing, enough to grab, to strike—yet taut with well-formed muscle, statuesque. The King chuckled seductively and pulled his cheeks apart. The crack of his ass, all of it was hairless as well, with the cutest little pink hole that was just _begging_ to be railed. Tweek could swear he saw it wink at him. Something primal unfurled in his chest, and he actually felt himself growl a little. King Hard laughed softly again, a musical sound, and turned to face him again.

“Oh, _please,_ ” Tweek whined in spite of himself. “It’s such a beautiful ass. It’s the ass of a god! I… I want it. I _have_ to fuck you, your Majesty. _Nnnngh-_ please.”

“While I appreciate the sound of your _begging,_ ” the King smirked, “you must _earn_ the right to impale my asshole.”

“ _Nhhh!_ Anything.” Tweek was shaking. He _really_ needed to get off. He _needed_ to fuck that pretty little hole, his very life depended on it. His balls absolutely _ached_ and there would be no cure except to shove his hard dick up between those beautiful cheeks. “I’ll even lick your asshole. Please, let me lick your asshole! _Guh!_ ”

“You may rise,” said the King. He clapped his hands twice. “Show him… the _Challenger._ ”

Tweek stood on his feet once more, and it was then that he noticed a pair of curtains on the wall opposite him, obscuring the silhouette of another—quite _masculine—_ figure.

“You see,” and the King smiled, sardonic, “you are not the only one who craves the sweetness of my backside. Only he who possesses the great power is worthy of spilling his seed into my waiting hole.”

“Are you fucking shitting me,” Tweek grumbled. The advisor stepped forward, ready to grab him by the balls again, but King Hard held up a hand to stop him.

“I will tolerate the vulgarities—for now,” he said. “For your masculine rage brings me incredible arousal. I certainly hope it will be enough… to defeat the Dark Lord.”

The curtains parted to reveal his challenger from the back. Large, ebony pauldrons jutted out from behind a long purple cloak. Tweek could see that the other man was wearing a crown of his own, made of steel and lined with skulls, the skulls of his enemies. He already knew who the fuck it was before the Dark Lord even turned around to face him. 

“ _Clyde!_ ” he shouted. “What the _fuck,_ man!”

Clyde immediately whipped around, his eyes huge, like a deer caught in headlights. He was dressed entirely in black armour except where his penis hung down, and his cloak fluttered behind him. “Um,” he said. “Uh, I… I…” His eyes glistened. “I don’t know why I’m here. I’m not _gay._ ” But a glance downward and Tweek knew he wasn’t telling the truth.

“I’m gonna _kill_ you, you son of a bitch!” Tweek screeched, flying at him. “ _Rraaarrgh!_ ” With a heavy _clink_ of metal the guards stepped forward. One of them grabbed him by the penis. Another by the balls. And another by the hair: twisting his fingers roughly into Tweek’s pubes. He squeaked in a very undignified manner and felt himself flush with embarrassment.

“You _must not fight within these walls!_ ” snarled the advisor. King Hard was seated atop his throne again, smiling, his gaze firmly held on the green orb in front of him. The guards dragged Tweek and Clyde out of the hall and then the palace, both of them by the dick, and then they were in the arena.

“But,” Tweek protested, “I don’t have a _weapon!_ ” He felt something tough and leathery thrust into his hands, and looked down to see that he’d been gifted with a rather huge bullwhip. He lashed it through the air once, to test it, and it whooshed mightily indeed, cracking upon the ground.

“I have _magic,_ ” taunted Clyde. “You’re gonna die. I mean, not that I wanna fuck the King or anything. I’m not gay.”

With a feral scream, Tweek barreled toward him. The whip crackled through the air and slapped Clyde across the face. He yelled in pain, and then he leapt on Tweek. Tweek’s head briefly rang when Clyde slugged him across the face, and he kicked out, kneeing him right in the balls. Clyde screamed like a girl.

“ _Tweek!_ ” a familiar voice shouted through the din of the crowd. “ _Tweek!_ What the fuck?!”

He was being shaken, rough and abrupt. Tweek gasped, and it was like he suddenly _slammed_ back down into this plane of reality, back down into his own body. The ground was hard and cold under his back, and dimly he could hear Clyde whining about something. Craig’s face, a mixture of rage, shock and utter _confusion_ materialized in front of him. 

“What the _fuck,_ ” he said again. “You _reek._ Is that cat piss on your face?!”

Tweek blinked and automatically reached up to wipe at his face. He was acutely aware of the fact that he was naked. Not just naked, but on the floor of _Tweek Bros.,_ his family’s pride and joy. Clyde was curled up in the fetal position near one of the tables, still wearing his stupid Dark Lord costume. Tweek couldn’t believe he actually had an adult version of that thing, and then he realized he really, _really_ didn’t want to know. He stared up blankly at Craig, unable to form words.

A small crowd had gathered outside the coffeehouse. They were looking on through the glass doors with great interest. Craig stormed over to one of them and shoved it open. “Are you guys open?!” Tweek heard a woman call out. 

“ _No,_ ” snapped Craig. “Show’s over. Everybody fuck off, right now.” He yanked the door closed and Tweek heard the _click_ of the locks being turned.

“I didn’t think you’d be back yet,” Tweek said, surprised. He didn’t realize until _after_ he said it how suspicious that must have sounded. His head hurt. He was sticky all over and his butt was sore. The ordeal had exhausted him so much that he didn’t even have the strength to feel humiliated; or maybe so much had happened at once that his brain just plain short-circuited, leaving him numb.

“It sucked so I came home,” Craig said tersely. “And then I find you here with Clyde.”

“Dude, it’s not what you think,” Clyde said groggily, forcing himself to his feet. Craig quickly covered the side of his face and whipped his head back.

“Put your fucking _dick_ away!” he yelled. Clyde looked down, blinked a couple of times and tucked himself back into the costume, zipping up. “I know it’s not what I _think,_ ” he continued, and Tweek could see his hands were shaking. He was clearly furious. “Because I thought you guys were _fucking_ in here.” 

“No,” Tweek protested weakly. “I… I didn’t fuck Clyde, Craig, I wouldn’t…”

“ _Shh!_ ” Craig shushed him quickly. “Babe, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you.” He rounded in on Clyde again. “I’m gonna fucking kill you. What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?”

“What did _I_ do?!”

“Just tell me where the cat is,” Craig demanded, clearly trying to keep his anger in check. It didn’t seem to be working. “Tell me where the cat is, and I won’t beat you to a bloody pulp for giving _my boyfriend_ that stupid cheese shit.”

“I didn’t give it to him!” Clyde yelled back. “I have my _own_ cat!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

“ _Ugh._ ” Tweek tried to stand up, and failed, so instead he hauled himself up into one of the chairs. Thank god all the blinds were drawn down over the windows. His eyeballs hurt and he was, indeed, filthy and naked, though at least he wasn’t hard anymore. He picked at some dried semen on his leg and frowned. “Craig, _nngh_ \- _nhhh_ \- I…”

“Just save your strength,” Craig said gently, rubbing one of his shoulders. Tweek groaned a little.

“For fucks’ sakes, Craig,” he snapped. “I’m not a _child._ Clyde didn’t give me anything, okay!?” Craig dropped his hand, clearly stunned by that. “I, _mmgh._ There was a cat in my basement, and I—”

“Wow.” Craig shook his head. “Un- _fucking_ -believable.” Clyde seemed to sense the approaching storm, because he immediately made a beeline for the door. Craig didn’t even try to stop him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tweek growled, “and _listen_ to me!”

“Listen to what?” Craig wouldn’t even look at him. “You know, I knew you had some issues, I’ve known you most of your life, but this… Jesus fucking Christ, Tweek. I don’t even know anymore.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” It was Tweek’s turn to be flabbergasted. “ _Ngh_ , you fucking asshole. Pull your head out of your ass, and _listen_ to me!” He’d grabbed Craig by the shirt, fingers digging into the fabric.

“I was cleaning the basement today, and a fucking _cat_ appeared out of nowhere! My parents, they’ve apparently been keeping it down there for god knows how long! _Nhhh!_ It ran into my bedroom, and, you know I’m allergic, I, I had to get it _out_ of there but then it fucking _pissed_ on my wall, man, it _pissed_ on my goddamn _wall_ and it got on me, too!” Tweek pressed his hands to his face. “ _Rrgh!_ You believe me, right?!”

“Okay, I believe you.” Craig hugged him, apparently not even caring that Tweek was covered in a bunch of disgusting crap that even _he_ didn’t know the origin of. “C’mon, honey. Let’s go get you cleaned up.” He pulled off his shirt and handed it to Tweek, who promptly tugged it over his head. “Shit,” he said. “It’s not long enough. Hang on.” He stripped, too, and tossed Tweek his underwear. Tweek smiled as he watched Craig bend over to pull his shorts back on.

 _God,_ was his ass incredible.

 

* * *

  

“Oh, _fuck._ ” Craig was the first to react when they got inside. The mess was visible right from the living room. Tweek bolted past him toward the kitchen. Empty _Gushers_ packets lined the floor, and the cupboard doors were flung open, contents all askew. He could see out the glass door that the backyard was a fucking wreck. Tweek promptly threw it open.

Half-chewed gummies in an array of colours covered the ground, clearly the candy that had been in those packets. An empty can of _Pabst Blue Ribbon_ lay on its side in a sickly brown puddle. For some bizarre reason a large bag of flour was sitting on their back porch, and then Tweek caught sight of the strangely intricate patterns drawn over the grass in white powder. Various bottles of pancake syrup were scattered around as well, and then Tweek saw it—he saw it, because he _stepped_ on it, squeezing out a jet of the slippery fluid—it was his lubricant.

His fucking _lubricant._ In the backyard.

“Uh, babe?”

Tweek looked back over his shoulder. Craig was standing on the other side of the glass with a strange little smile on his face. He held them up in his hands: a small collection Tweek had amassed, colourful toys in various shapes, sizes and textures.

Tweek was pretty sure his stomach just dropped out of his asshole.

Craig tapped one of the toys against the window—a large, blue one with strange ridges and nodes and, ultimately, resembled absolutely _nothing_ that could even remotely be considered human—and Tweek immediately yanked the door open, snatching them all out of his hands. Craig laughed at him.

“ _Ngh,_ fuck you,” Tweek growled. “ _Fuck_ you, Craig.”

“If we find the cat,” inquired Craig, “can I watch next time?”


End file.
